


horns like a devil (pointed at me)

by pinlilli



Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Age Difference, Bottom Bucky Barnes, Bucky is 18/Steve is 32, Cop Steve, Daddy Kink, Delinquent Bucky, Dom Steve Rogers, Frottage, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Multiple Orgasms, Pierce is Bucky's adoptive father, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Semi-Public Sex, Spoiled Bucky, Sub Bucky Barnes, Top Steve Rogers, author knows nothing about how police work, bratty bucky, but it's barely there
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-11
Updated: 2017-07-11
Packaged: 2018-12-01 01:12:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,495
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11475480
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pinlilli/pseuds/pinlilli
Summary: Bucky is the delinquent son of the chief of police and Steve is a cop just trying to do his job.





	horns like a devil (pointed at me)

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by Brooklyn 99 S1EP2 lol what.
> 
> Title from [Bryce Fox’s Horns](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Q_NB5luxtic).

Bucky sat on a bench in the shade of a bodega. His legs swung back and forth, barely long enough to graze the ground at twelve years of age. He licked at his cherry popsicle, the frozen treat already beginning to melt in the blistering summer heat and sticky up his hands. Sweat collected at the nape of his neck, rolling down his back and making his stuffy dress shirt cling to him.

He was bored, but it was too hot to play outside and too sunny to be cooped up at home. His dad was probably too busy with work to take him to the pool. With a sigh, he popped the last of his popsicle into his mouth and threw the stick into a nearby potted plant. He slid off the bench and landed on both his feet. He was still hungry, having run out of his house so he wouldn’t have to eat his lunch of chicken breast and brussel sprouts, but he didn’t have anymore money on him.

Bucky ducked into the bodega. Somehow it was even hotter inside than it was outside. A middle-aged man with a beer paunch and a thick mustache sat reading the newspaper behind the counter. A four-screen security feed of the store streamed on the oldest piece of junk TV Bucky had ever seen. The man wasn’t paying attention to it.

Bucky turned away, biting down on his lower lip.

The boys in his class bragged about it, sometimes. About stealing a few dollars worth of candies or a packet of trading cards, even though any one of their parents would toss them a hundred dollar bill if asked. Brock boasted the loudest, claiming to have once stolen a video game from a GameStop by wrapping foil around the casing. Bucky didn’t know if he believed that or not since Brock lied all the time.

There wasn’t anything worth stealing in here, but Bucky wanted to _try_. Just to see if he could do it. If that idiot Brock could do it, then he should be able to, too.

Bucky walked past imported snacks to the back where various candy filled the shelves. His hands trembled with fear and excitement. He felt weak-kneed just from the _thought_ of stealing. The closest he had ever gotten to stealing was nicking a gummy worm from the bulk candy bins. When your dad was chief of police, you didn’t think about breaking rules, not unless you wanted the whipping of your life.

But he wouldn’t have to worry about that if he didn’t get caught.

Bucky glanced around him before slipping a chocolate bar into his pocket. His heart pounded in his chest, loud enough to drown out the buzzing of the electric fans.

The hard part was over. He just had to walk out of here like nothing happened. Keeping his eyes fixed on the exit, he jammed his hands into his pockets and made a leisure stroll for the door.

Just meters from safety, someone caught his shoulder. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

Bucky’s heart exploded.

“I saw that you nasty little rat,” the storekeeper said, grabbing him by the ear. He twisted it, dragging Bucky out on the sidewalk.

“Ow! Let me go you asshole!” Bucky cried out, kicking ineffectually at the man’s legs. “I didn’t do anything!”

“Shut up! I saw you take something.”

The man threw him to the ground. Bucky landed on his hands and knees, scraping up his palms and tearing his pants. Tears of pain and humiliation sprung up in his eyes. This wasn’t supposed to happen. It was just a game. He wasn’t supposed to get in trouble for it, not for a stupid 89 cent chocolate bar.

“Gonna call the cops on you, you thieving scum.”

Fear jolted through Bucky. He scrambled to his feet, only to be yanked back down by a fist in his hair.

“Hey! What’s going on over here?” a deep voice yelled, and then another man was wedging himself protectively between Bucky and the storekeeper. The man’s dark shadow fell over Bucky, shielding him from the worst of the afternoon sun and the storekeeper’s wrath.

“Officer, this… _boy_ ,” the man said ‘boy’ the same way people said ‘piece of shit’, “was stealing from me.”

The cop knelt down beside him and Bucky quickly wiped his tears away with the back of his hand. The man was blond, with strong features and eyes as blue as a cloudless summer sky. His broad shoulders filled out his cop’s uniform and his cap sat straight on his head. Handsome, even to Bucky’s unrefined tastes.

He looked kind.

“What’s your name?”

“Bucky,” he answered, voice small.

“Bucky,” the cop repeated. “I’m Steve. Did you steal from this man, Bucky?”

Bucky sniffed, lower lip wobbling.

The shopkeeper sneered, “Crocodile tears.”

Steve ignored him. “What’s that in your pocket, Bucky?” he asked, inclining his head towards the orange package that was sticking out of Bucky’s pants.

Bucky reached into his pocket and pulled out a chocolate bar, offering it to Steve on an open palm. “I’m sorry. I was hungry,” he said. Steve’s face softened, a small but sad smile on his lips. Bucky knew then that he had won. A kind man, indeed.

Steve took the chocolate bar from his hand. “You can’t take things that aren’t yours without first paying for them. It’s wrong,” he chided. He helped Bucky to standing. “Come on, let’s go pay for this.”

Bucky shivered as Steve placed a hand on the back of his neck and guided him into the store, the owner following behind them.

Steve put the chocolate bar on the counter and dug into his back pocket for his wallet. “Anything else you want?” he asked. When Bucky shook his head, Steve grinned at him and bumped hips with him. Given their difference in heights, Steve ended up nudging his shoulder more than anything. “Go on. Pick something else.”

Bucky glanced around the store, wrinkling his nose at the knock-off brands like Sour Frittles and Cheepos. There wasn’t a damn thing he wanted from this place. He peered up at Steve, who gave him an encouraging nod, probably interpreting his hesitation for shyness. Eventually, he decided on a packet of gummies called Power Turtles and a bag of Cheez Balls. He placed them on the counter.

“The boy stole from me and you’re _rewarding_ him for it?” the shopkeeper asked incredulously.

“The kid’s hungry, okay? Cut him some slack.” Steve counted a few dollar bills from his pocket and waited expectantly for the man to scan the items.

“So you expect me to just feed anyone who comes walking in looking a little hungry? I run a business, not a goddamn charity!” the man yelled, face turning red. Bucky startled and took a step behind Steve, relaxing only when the cop set a hand on his head.

“At what point did I ask you to give handouts?” Steve asked. “I’m a paying customer. Are you going to ring me up or what?”

The man grumbled, but jabbed his finger against into the cash register keys anyway. “Fucking criminals. You let them off easy once and they think they can get away with it again. Goddamn plague to this world,” he muttered.

“Hey, cut that out. Besides,” Steve said. He smiled widely down at Bucky and reached a hand out to ruffle his hair. “It won’t happen again. Right, Bucky?”

“Right,” Bucky echoed, giving the shopkeeper a brilliant smile, all traces of tears gone.

* * *

A week later, he swiped a stick of deodorant and got away with it. It was a small thing, nothing to be proud of. He gave it to his dad. His dad had laughed and said, “Trying to say something about the way I smell?”

He set his eyes on a pair of earbuds next, walking into a Radio Shack with an acrylic knife up his sleeve. The college student working cash caught him just as he was slipping the earbuds into his pocket. He gripped Bucky by his shoulder and marched him to the storage room at the back while he called the cops.

When Steve arrived, Bucky was sitting on a folding chair, arms crossed and glaring sullenly at the bare flooring.

Steve sighed, sliding his hands into his pockets. He levelled Bucky with a disappointed look. “Were you hungry this time, too?”

Bucky didn’t answer.

“I thought we agreed this wasn’t going to happen again.”

Bucky shrugged. His stomach twisted a little. He didn’t feel guilty about stealing, not really, even though he knew it was wrong. It felt worse knowing that he had let Steve down. But mostly he felt annoyed.

Steve sighed again. “Okay, let’s get you back to the station. I’ll call your parents and we’ll talk about what you did.”

* * *

Bucky sat across from Steve’s desk while the cop filled out a report for him. Steve looked up from his desk when Alexander Pierce, chief of police, walked in and put a hand on Bucky’s head.

“Hi, dad,” Bucky said.

“Don’t you ‘hi’ me, you little brat,” his dad said. Bucky knew how his dad sounded when he was truly mad, and this wasn’t it. His chest loosened with relief and he settled back into his seat. His dad would take care of this.

Steve was looking back and forth between Bucky and Alex, eyes round with surprise.

Alex turned to Steve. “Thanks for picking up my son, Rogers. But don’t worry about it. I’ll take care of him.”

Steve quickly regained his composure, clearing his throat. “That’s why I called you down here, to talk about what happened. Bucky has shoplifted before. Did you know that?”

“No, I didn’t. You can rest assured that I’ll give my son a stern talking once we get home,” Alex said. “So why don’t we keep this off the records?”

“Sir, I can’t—”

“Sure, you can. Just give me that,” Alex swiped the sheet from Steve, folded it in half and tucked it into his jacket, “and let me deal with my son in private.”

“We can have the discussion right here,” Steve said.

Alex sighed. “You’re making me repeat myself, Rogers. Look, I appreciate you wanting to do your job properly, but you’re wasting your time. There are bigger things to worry about than my son stealing… What did you take, Bucky?”

“Just some earbuds, dad. They were cheap.” As though the price would lessen his crime.

“There you have it.” Alex nodded. “Just some cheap earbuds. How much were they? Ten dollars, tops?” Without waiting for an answer, he continued, “Rogers— _Steve_ , I hired you because you showed a strong sense of justice and drive. Your instructors at the academy had only good things to say about you. But if you’re going to come into work every day and concern yourself with insignificant problems, instead of focussing on catching serial killers and rapists… We only need people who are going to make a _real_ difference. Do you understand what I’m trying to say here?”

The shock on Steve’s face turned into betrayal, then anger, his jaw clenching and lips pressing into a thin line. That look unhinged something in Bucky then, making his stomach go tight, though he wouldn’t figure out why until he was older and learned he could do things with his dick that didn’t involve pissing.

Steve nodded tightly, once. “Understood.”

* * *

The third time he was caught, Steve asked him, “Why’d you do it, Bucky?” He asked that question a lot as the years went by. The once gentle tone of his voice edging into something harder, something more strained.

Bucky was a psychologist’s wet dream. How could a teenager, who had everything he wanted in life, could possibly benefit from shoplifting? Maybe it fulfilled some void inside him left by his parents who worked a hundred hours a week. Maybe he was seeking approval and attention from his peers.

Bucky didn’t have to analyze it. He just knew he got one hell of a rush from it, heart rate skyrocketing, hands sweaty and trembling around the pair of Ray Bans he just stole.

Sometimes, and Bucky couldn’t explain why, he even _let_ himself be caught. Teeth digging into his lower lip at the sight of Steve—and it was Steve who came for him, more often than not—striding into the room, fitted in uniform. Bucky mouthed off and yelled insults. Struggled until Steve grabbed him by the neck and threw him into the back of the police car.

And maybe, he even found himself growing a little hard in his jeans as he watched Steve in the rearview mirror, drawn to the intensity in those blue eyes and the sternness of strong brows.

 

* * *

 

Bucky took a step back from the rolling steel door to admire his artwork. His initials JBB stretched across the metal in splashes of neon green and pink. He tilted his head to the side. The perspective of the 3D letters didn’t look quite right and the lines were shaky. He should probably have used a stencil, but it wasn’t bad for a first attempt.

“So this is what you’re up to now,” a familiar voice said from behind him. Bucky whipped around. Steve was leaning against the chainlink fence. He had his arms folded across his chest, biceps bulging and black trousers stretched tight over his thick thighs. Bucky dragged his attention back up to Steve’s face, finding the cop looking at him with a brow raised.

“Shouldn’t you be in school?”

“Shouldn’t you be doing something other than patrolling after ten years on the force?” Bucky shot back.

Steve didn’t respond to the jab, though his jaw clenched. He was always so patient, which Bucky thought was a surprising quality for a cop. He liked to think it was because Steve had developed a soft spot for him after all these years, but it was probably because Steve just didn’t want to lose his job.

“You realise this is private property, right?” Steve said instead. “You shouldn’t even be here.”

Bucky spread his arms wide and flashed a crooked grin. “And yet, here I am.”

Steve snorted, pushing himself off the fence. He marched over to Bucky and clamped a hand around his shoulder. “I’m taking you back to the station.”

* * *

The 107th precinct felt almost like a second home to Bucky, he was here so often. He waved at Darcy, the secretary, as he came in trailing after Steve. She gave him the middle finger back. They passed by Sam rifling through a filing cabinet on the way to Steve’s desk, who looked up and said, “Jesus, not you again.”

Bucky’s lips twisted up in amusement. He knew what everyone here thought of him. They’d love to see him put in his place. Too bad his dad had the whole precinct under his thumb.

Steve sat down and gestured for Bucky to do the same. Bucky plopped down and threw his feet up on the desk, putting up a little playful resistance when Steve pushed his feet off with a growl.

“Don’t know why you bother, Steve,” Bucky said. “My record’s still spotless.”

“Yeah, well. I’m hoping your dad will give up on bailing out your ass one day.” Steve pulled out a report sheet and plucked a pen from the holder on his desk.

“Not gonna happen,” Bucky said, leaning back to get comfortable. He liked watching Steve work, his Clenched Jaw of Righteousness, the minute shifting of the tendons in his hand as he adjusted his grip. As much as Bucky questioned Steve’s competence, he knew that Steve was damn good at what he did—he overheard his dad’s phone conversations with Captain Fury. He would have been promoted, if not for the numerous counts of insubordination, whether or not they were justified.

Bucky narrowed his eyes when he noticed Sharon approaching them.

Sharon wore dress shirts with shoulder pads and A-line skirts. She also wore a lot of makeup to give the impression of a natural, glowing look. She was probably a nice woman. Everyone else seemed to like her, Steve included. Bucky thought she was a bimbo. Leaning over with her hands on the desk as she spoke, allowing Steve full view of her cleavage. Handing over reports with a brush of her fingers. Always touching.

“Hey, Steve. Fury wants you in his office when you’re done here. Looks like we’re going to be working on a case together,” she said, sliding her hand up Steve’s arm until it rested on his shoulder. Like Bucky said, a bimbo.

Steve glanced up from his report with a smile. “That’s great, Sharon. I’ll see him in a bit.”

“Yeah, I’m looking forward to it. It’s a big case and I think we make a pretty solid team.”

“We sure do.”

That should have been Sharon’s cue to leave. Instead, she continued to linger, hovering over Steve’s shoulder as he wrote, like he needed adult supervision.

“Thousands of reports filled in and your writing still looks like chicken scratch,” she teased. “Thought we would have seen a bit of improvement by now.”

Steve chuckled. “You just gotta stand there and insult me while I work?”

Bucky snorted and turned away with a roll of his eyes, just catching the warning look Steve shot his way. That was honestly the most pathetic attempt at flirting Bucky had ever seen in his life. It was something a kindergartener would say. Yet Sharon had somehow managed to pull a laugh out of Steve. Six goddamn years Bucky had been popping in and out of Steve’s life, and barring their first meeting, he had yet to get anything more than a tight smile out of the man.

Sharon continued to nitpick, tapping a manicured nail on the sheet, informing him that today was, in fact, the 22nd of May, not the 21st. Everything about her body language screamed attraction to Steve: the way she pushed her chest out at him, the smile that wouldn’t leave her face while they talked. Bucky didn’t know if Steve just wasn’t interested, or he was dumb enough to not notice. Bucky hoped it was a lack of interest.

“Don’t take too long. You know how Fury gets,” Sharon said. With one last pat on Steve’s arm, she walked away, heels click-clacking over the floor.

Bucky waited until she was out of earshot before asking, “You two fucking?”

Steve sputtered, flushing red all the way up to his hairline. “No, Jesus!” he managed finally. “Sharon’s a good friend. We work well together.”

“In case it wasn’t already obvious, she likes you, you know.”

“She likes me as a _friend_ ,” Steve insisted. He was flustered, pen hovering above the page, unable to meet Bucky’s eyes. Bucky had never seen Steve this upended. Wondered if all it took was saying Sharon’s name to put him in this state. An ugly feeling crept into Bucky’s chest.

Bucky laughed. “I don’t know how you became detective when you’re this stupid. Is that why they put you on patrol? Because you can’t solve any cases?”

Steve glared at him. “I actually solve most of the cases I’m assigned.”

“Doesn’t mean much if you were only assigned two cases,” Bucky said.

Steve snorted, returning his attention back to his report. “Jesus, you’re insufferable. I’m not going to argue about this with you.” The colour was slowly beginning to fade from his cheeks, which was a true pity. He looked really cute when he was red-faced.

Bucky fiddled around on his phone while he waited for his dad to pick him up. Holding his phone at chest-height, he angled it up so he could take a picture of Steve bent over his desk and scribbling away.

“No photographs, Bucky,” Steve said without looking up.

“I didn’t do anything.”

Steve sighed. “I know what it looks like when someone’s trying to sneak a photo of you.” He held out an open palm. “Give me your phone.”

As if on cue, his dad walked into the station. Bucky hurriedly tucked his phone into his pocket, straightening in his seat.

“Chief.” Steve squared up his shoulders. Gearing up for a fight, like he always did. Bucky wasn’t sure if he did for the principle of the thing. Every time, all it took was a subtle threat of losing his job to shut him up and let Bucky go.

“Boys will be boys, huh, Rogers I was no different when I was his age,” Alex said, smiling down at Bucky. Bucky beamed.

Steve’s grip tightened on his pen. Bucky seriously thought he was going to snap it right in half and send ink spurting everywhere.

“Sir, with all due respect,” Steve says. “You can’t use someone’s age or gender to excuse them from the law.”

“Bucky’s a child. Children make mistakes, sometimes more than once. He’ll grow out of it.”

“Bucky is 18. He’s old enough to know that stealing and vandalism are unacceptable, and that there are consequences _. Real ones_ ,” Steve stressed. “He’s never going to learn if you keep shielding him from them.”

Alex’s face went hard, smile thinning into a flat line. “I wasn’t aware I came here for a lecture on parenting. Perhaps, Rogers, you should think about the conversation we had a while back before making unnecessary comments.”

Steve clamped his mouth shut, though his eyes remained alight with anger.

Alex nodded. “Good. Make yourself a useful cop for once, and take my son home when you leave for patrol, hm?”

* * *

Bucky got to sit in the front this time, and Steve looked furious about it.

They were quiet for most of the ride. The police scanner streamed, an electronically distorted voice using jargon and code Bucky didn’t understand. He kept shooting Steve glances, trying to catch his eye, but Steve kept both hands on the wheel and stared straight ahead. Bucky pouted softly. The one time he had Steve alone, all to himself, and the cop didn’t even acknowledge his presence.

Bucky looked at Steve, considering. Then, he carefully set a hand on Steve’s thigh, right above the knee.

Steve inhaled sharply, the muscle of his thigh tensing beneath Bucky’s palm. His eyes flickered to the hand on his thigh, back to the road, then over to Bucky.

“What do you think you’re doing?”

Bucky hummed. He curled his fingers into the fabric of Steve’s trousers, blatant in his intent. He kept his eyes on Steve’s face, gauging. The colour rose in Steve’s cheeks, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed loudly. That was a curious, promising, and an unexpected reaction. Bucky’s lips curved into a smile. Yeah, he could work with this.

Slowly, he slid his hand up Steve’s thigh, fingertips brushing along the inner seams of his trousers. Steve’s pants were starting to tent unmistakably, and Bucky almost hooted in triumph.

Just inches away from cupping Steve’s bulge, Steve shoved Bucky’s hand off him. The car veered off to the side before quickly righting itself.

“Jesus, Bucky! What the hell was that?”

Bucky laughed, a delighted and giddy feeling rising up in his chest. He had never gotten such a strong reaction out of Steve before. “I’m just messing with you.”

“That was incredibly inappropriate,” Steve’s fingers flexed and unflexed around the steering wheel. “You can’t just—You can’t… There are cameras in here! Just. Just keep your hands to yourself.”

“Sure,” Bucky agreed easily, leaning back against the headrest. Tried not to preen when this time, Steve was the one to keep glancing at him.

Moments later, they pulled up into the brick driveway of Bucky’s house. His house was fenced in by trimmed hedges that towered overhead, shielding them from the eyes of nosy neighbours. Steve shifted the gear to park, turning to look at him expectantly. Bucky raised a brow back.

“You going to get out, or what?” Steve asked.

Someone was being waspish, Bucky thought. “Not unless you open the door for me,” he said.

Steve exhaled loudly through his nose. “You are such a brat. I can’t believe you.” Still, he unclipped his seatbelt and stepped out, walking around the front of the car and yanking the passenger door open. “Get out.”

His voice was so stern that Bucky’s body obeyed without his permission, all but scrambling to get out and stand before Steve. He wasn’t entirely sure how that happened when he had every intention of dragging this out.

“You wanna come upstairs for something to drink?” Bucky asked, a suggestive little smile on his lips. He stretched his arms overhead. His t-shirt rode up.

It happened so fast then, that Bucky would have missed it if he weren’t watching Steve so closely.

Steve’s eyes flickered to the exposed strip of his belly, before darting away to settle on the car.

Bucky’s eyes rounded with realisation. His smirk widened into an outright grin. Laughing, he said, “Oh my god! You want to fuck me!” Pure and good Steve Rogers! Life could be so fucking hilarious sometimes.

Steve’s eyes snapped up to Bucky’s face, alarmed, the colour creeping up his neck. God bless that blush. It made Steve so damn easy to read. “What? No, I-I don’t. Jesus Bucky—you’re like. Half my age. Jesus.”

Bucky shook his head, chuckling. “Yeah, ironic, isn’t it? You pretend to be all high and mighty with this cop act you got going on, but you’re no better than the people you arrest, getting hot for a boy who’s barely legal.”

Steve was fully flushed now. From embarrassment, maybe anger. His lips were pressed together, jaw muscle jumping. “Bucky, shut up. I don’t want to sleep with you.”

“Aw. You’ve never really thought about it?” Bucky’s tongue darted out to wet his lips. He pouted, peering up at Steve from beneath his lashes. “You never thought about stuffing your cock in my mouth to shut me up? Never thought of dragging me over your lap and spanking me until I cried?”

Steve looked red enough to explode. Mouth opening and closing silently as he tried to form words. Bucky was given an inch; he was going to take the entire goddamn mile. He knew now, that somehow, Steve wanted him, at least in some capacity. Hell if he let go before he got a taste.

Bucky goaded him on, “Come on, don’t you want me to get on my knees—”

Steve lunged forward, crushing their lips together, shoving him against the car, right where anyone could see them. Bucky moaned against Steve’s, fingers coming up to clutch at his chest. There was nothing gentle about the kiss, too much teeth and not enough tongue. Steve kissed him like he wanted to break him, bust him up and leave him breathless on the floor.

Bucky wanted everything Steve had to give him. He was hard and aching in his shorts already. He had wanted this—the biting kisses, the hot press of their bodies—for an embarrassingly long time, longer than he was willing to admit.

Steve wedged a knee between Bucky’s legs and pressed forward and up. Bucky broke away from the kiss with a loud gasp, hips jerking. He screwed his eyes shut, fingers curling tight into Steve’s shirt. “Ah fuck,” he whimpered, unable to help grinding down on Steve’s thigh.

“This what you needed? Huh?” Steve asked.

Bucky shivered at the low rasp of Steve’s voice in his ear. He stilled his hips. Fumbling to hold onto whatever control he had over the situation. As though realising this, Steve clamped his hands around Bucky’s hips, moving them until Bucky thought _fuck it_ , and started riding his thigh in earnest. The denim was rough against his crotch, pulling almost painfully tight over his dick every time he thrust forward. Bucky loved it. Made high, thin noises. Anyone walking by or sticking their head out the window could hear it.

“Oh shit. Steve. Steve, _Steve_ ,” he groaned, shuddering bodily.

“That’s cute. You gonna come just from this?” Steve murmured, lightly grazing his teeth along the angle of Bucky’s jaw, lips curved up into a wicked smile against his skin.

Bucky’s breath hitched, leaving him in a whine. His cheeks felt hot, insides going warm from Steve calling him cute, of all things. “Steve, I—”

Steve shushed him gently. He wedged a hand behind Bucky, clever fingers finding their way between Bucky’s asscheeks to rub at his hole over the fabric. Bucky buried his face into Steve’s neck, kissing and sucking the skin above the collar as he rocked his hips back and forth.

“God, look at you,” Steve breathed into his ear, voice low and rough. “You’d let me bend you over the hood and fuck you right here, wouldn’t you? Yeah, you would, you little slut.”

Bucky’s brain shorted out. Never had he heard Steve swear before. The syllable was sharp on his tongue, incongruous with the image of a gentle but stern cop Bucky had in his mind. Hearing it now was a fucking gift.

He would, if Steve asked him to. He’d drop his pants and present his ass. Let everyone see that Alexander Pierce’s son was getting fucked by a man twice his age and loving every second of it. The thought had him moaning loudly and riding Steve’s thigh with increased desperation. His belly was going all tight, movements turning unsteady. Steve’s hands squeezed down on Bucky’s hips, guiding him when he felt inches away from falling apart.

“Go on, let me see you come,” Steve said. Just like that Bucky _did_ , orgasm punching through him. His dick jerked in his briefs, once, twice, dirtying them up with his release.

“Oh, god—Steve, uh,” he managed. He curled forward, panting hot and wet against Steve’s throat, trembling. His knees had given out on him completely, Steve’s hands on his waist the only thing keeping him up.

Steve chuckled against Bucky’s temple. “Guess I’ll come up for that drink, after all.”

* * *

In the time it took for them to get to the bedroom, Bucky felt like he had regained some of his higher brain function. Although there was no one home, he locked the door behind them before quickly pushing Steve up against it. He rose to his tippy toes, mashing their lips together in a bruising kiss that Steve returned with a groan.

Bucky slid his hands down Steve’s torso, marvelling at the span of muscle beneath his palms. He could feel Steve’s pants tenting obscenely against his hip and he pressed his hand into it. Testing it for size and finding himself both overwhelmed and excited.

With one last kiss, Bucky pulled away, dropping to his knees. He peered up at Steve from his position on the floor. The view from here was amazing. Steve was flushed and heaving with arousal, the darks of his pupils swallowing up the blue and fixed solely on Bucky. Shaking with anticipation, he undid Steve’s belt. He was already drooling, mouth getting all wet in preparation for some cocksucking. He pushed Steve’s pants down just enough to get his dick out and free his balls.

Bucky went weak at the sight of Steve’s wondrously thick cock. Big, just like the rest of him. He pitched forward, pushing his nose right up into Steve’s pubic hair and inhaling that heady, masculine scent. He groaned, eyes fluttering shut, nuzzling his cheek against the hot erection. “Congratulations, Steve. You just won the genetic lottery.”

Steve laughed breathlessly above him, his fingers tangling into Bucky’s hair. “Jesus, you love it.”

“Yeah,” Bucky agreed.

“Go on. Show me how much.”

Taking Steve in hand, he licked along the underside of his cock before closing his lips around the tip, sucking softly. He moaned at the first taste of precome spreading across his tongue, salty and bitter and so good. His dick twitched with renewed interest in the confines of his pants.

He pulled off to gather up the spit in his mouth. Slowly, he dribbled it over Steve’s dick, getting it wet enough so he could swallow the entirety of it down. Or as much as he could, anyway. Determined to make this good for Steve, Bucky opened wide and leaned forward to take him into his mouth. He built up a steady rhythm of bobbing his head, taking Steve deeper each time, his fingers curled around the base to stroke whatever he couldn’t cover with his mouth.

Steve moaned, reaching down to cup Bucky’s cheek to feel himself. He traced the stretch of Bucky’s lips with his thumb, eyes dark. Bucky could get addicted to this, the way Steve was looking down at him almost fondly.

Bucky reached between his legs to palm himself. Sucking dick always got him going. Something in the way Steve lay heavy on his tongue, thick enough to make his jaw ache and breathing difficult. He made hungry noises around Steve’s cock. Feeling like he could come from pleasuring Steve alone.

“F-fuck. Bet you suck a lot of cock, don’t you? You’re fucking amazing at this.” Steve gritted out. His hands tightened into Bucky’s hair and his hips bucked, the head of his cock hitting the back of Bucky’s throat.

Bucky gagged. Tears sprung to his eyes. He pulled off Steve’s dick with a wet noise, coughing, wiping away the saliva on his chin with the back of his hand. An urgent spark of disappointment penetrated the haze of his arousal. Steve had praised him and he had gone ahead and messed up not a second later.

He leaned back in to swallow down Steve’s cock, only to be stopped by a hand on his chin. He looked up, lips drawn in a soft moue. “Did I do something wrong?”

For a brief moment, Steve looked taken aback by his question. Then he shook his head and said, “Get your clothes off. I wanna fuck you.”

Bucky couldn’t react fast enough. He jumped to his feet, pulling his shirt over his head, unzipping his pants and pushing them down along with his boxers in one go. Steve undressed much more slowly, as though unaffected by this all. Impatient, Bucky dug into the bedside drawer for a bottle of lube and a condom. Then he made himself comfortable on his back in bed. He propped himself up on his elbows, watching as Steve stepped out of trousers.

Finally, Steve joined him, crawling over him. Framing his forearms on either side of Bucky’s head, he dipped his head down for a kiss. There wasn’t as much biting this time, though Steve was no less demanding, shoving his tongue into Bucky’s mouth. Whimpering, Bucky surged up. He wrapped his arms and legs around Steve, clinging.

“Come on, come on, _come on_ ,” Bucky chanted against the corner of Steve’s lips, rolling his hips up in search of more friction. “Hurry up and fuck me—I need it.”

Steve hummed noncommittally, moving to suck kisses into the column of Bucky’s throat. He pushed a hand between their bodies, dragging a calloused hand over Bucky’s cock. He swiped his thumb over the head, pushing the bead of precome down Bucky’s length.

Bucky’s head thumped back against the pillow. His inner thighs quivered and his stomach clenched up. He whimpered again, feeling utterly eclipsed by Steve’s bulk. Contenting himself in the tight circle of Steve’s fingers even though he felt empty without a dick to fill him up.

Then, Steve pinched the tip of his cock between his forefinger and thumb. Bucky shouted in surprise. He shoved Steve’s hand away, closing up his legs, just barely keeping himself from shooting all over the place. “Fuck, you asshole,” he said, voice shaking. “That hurt.”

And he had liked it. God, did he like it. He hadn’t even known a little pain would do it for him.

Steve placed an apologetic kiss on the skin behind his ear. He gave Bucky’s hip a light slap. “On your hands and knees.”

Bucky complied, scrambling onto his front. He propped himself up on his elbows and spread his knees wide. Steve settled both hands on his ass and squeezed. Kneading and spreading the cheeks apart to take a long look at Bucky’s hole. Bucky’s face burned with how exposed he felt. His dick dangled heavy between his legs, drooling a steady stream of precome onto the sheets.

“Are you just going to stare at it all day, or are you going to fuck it?” Bucky asked.

“If you ask me nicely, I might consider it,” Steve said.

Huffing, Bucky said, “Will you fuck me? Please?” He wiggled his ass, dick swaying lightly.

Steve snorted, unimpressed. Still, he reached for the lube and slicked up his fingers.

Bucky groaned at the first touch of a cold finger against his entrance. Then Steve pushed a finger inside him, excruciatingly slow. He pulled out, pressed back in. Crooking it in a beckoning motion, just brushing that spot inside him. An involuntary whimper escaped Bucky’s lips.

“Gimme another finger,” Bucky demanded.

Steve did, swirling and scissoring. And then he stopped. Held his two fingers there, motionless.

Bucky whined, craning his neck to look over his shoulder. “Why’d you stop?”

“You want it? Then you got to work for it.”

It took a moment for his fogged up brain to comprehend Steve’s words. Then Bucky’s eyes widened. He didn’t move.

“Come on, Buck. Gotta work for the things you want,” Steve said. “Show me how you fuck yourself on my fingers.”

Steve didn’t move a damn muscle. He was really making Bucky do this. Face hot, Bucky pushed his hips onto Steve’s fingers, again and again. He whined in frustration, feeling like Steve was pulling back every time he tried to grind down. The angle at which Steve was holding his fingers made it impossible to get any real sort of simulation where he needed it most, no matter how much he circled his hips or how wide he spread his knees in an effort to take Steve in even deeper. But something about this, something about riding those thick fingers while Steve watched on with an almost bored expression… It made him feel so slutty and desperate, a sensation that went straight to his cock.

“Steve,” Bucky said, “just fuck me already. I’m ready, I can take it.”

“Shh, not yet. One more finger, okay?”

Steve curled in a third finger just so, rubbing up against his prostate. Bucky mewled—there was no other word for it, the absolutely tiny kitten-like noise that escaped him—head lolling between his shoulders. Clamping his ass down to keep Steve’s fingers in place as he squirmed. “Oh my god. Oh my god, oh my god, right there.” His dick blurted a fresh wave of precome. “Oh, Steve, _please_ —”

He said please, but Steve pulled out anyways, leaving him empty. Bucky cried out, the muscles of his ass clenching down on nothing.

Before he could complain, Steve tore open a condom packet and was lining the head of his cock against his hole. Bucky’s breath caught in his throat at heat of it. He was shaking, hole spasming eagerly, gut seizing up in anticipation with every second of waiting. God, he was going to drive himself crazy with it.

But Steve didn’t push. Instead rubbed the head of his cock against Bucky’s hole, sliding it down the cleft of his ass to nudge against the soft spot of skin behind his balls. Bucky’s hips jerked and Steve chuckled.

“Jesus… I can’t believe how much you want it,” Steve murmured.

Bucky sobbed, fingers digging into the sheets. It wasn’t fair that he was falling apart and Steve seemed hardly affected. If he could just make his body work, he could flip them over and just ride Steve, but his limbs refused to cooperate. “I hate you. You’re being mean,” he strained out. Childish, whiny. He didn’t care.

“What are the magic words?”

“ _Please!_ ” Bucky burst out, squeezing his eyes shut. This was stupid. Steve was stupid. How much was he expected to beg before he could get fucked? It felt like he was going to die from a serious case of blue balls.

Steve’s hands were back on his ass, kneading, jiggling the flesh. Smacking lightly just to see it shake. “Only good boys deserve my cock. Have you been a good boy, Bucky?”

“Uh,” Bucky moaned as Steve pushed the first joint of his thumb inside him before pulling out. “Yeah, oh, Steve. I’ve been so good.” He _had_ been. He’d gotten down on his knees, said please, did everything Steve asked him to. He deserved this!

Steve laughed at that, a low and mocking sound. “In what world does vandalizing private property make you a good boy?” His fingers tightened into Bucky’s ass, pulling it apart nice and wide. Bucky clenched around the stretch. Then, Steve brought down the flats of two fingers, slapping them over Bucky’s hole.

“Oh shit,” Bucky grunted. His hips jolted as feeling shot through him. Steve had gone back to rubbing him with the pad of his thumb, teasing and tortuous. Refusing to give Bucky what he needed despite his soft, hurt cries. They were backtracking. Just seconds ago he had had Steve’s cock against him, now it was fingers again. “Please, I can be good. I-I promise. I can remove the graffiti. I just—come _on_. Please…”

“You’ve lied to me before, Buck,” Steve said. “How do I know you’re not lying to me now?”

Bucky shook his head frantically. Frustrated, fit to burst from how bad he wanted it and how much it got to him when Steve told him _no_. “‘M not lying. I’ll be good. Just please, _gimme it._ ” His voice broke then, to his shame.

Steve finally relented. Bucky moaned as the head of his cock popped inside. The stretch felt so good. Bucky buried his face into the pillow beneath him and panted. Tried to relax so he could he could take in the rest of Steve’s length.

“That’s it,” Steve crooned. He ran his hands soothingly up and down the length of Bucky’s back. “Look at you, learning how to say please so sweetly. Guess all you needed was your daddy to teach you some manners, huh?”

Bucky couldn’t help it. He came with a low, shocked moan, dick shooting off warm and wet onto the sheets. “Oh god…” he whimpered, trembling. Vaguely aware of Steve groaning behind him.

“Fuck, Bucky. Did you…? Jesus, that’s—”

Fucking embarrassing, was what it was, that he could be set off because of a dumb word. He had never, ever, called anyone daddy. Never been with anyone who made him feel the need to. It wasn’t his thing. It was probably having Steve inside him after all that teasing that made him come so unexpectedly. Yeah. That made more sense.

He had barely caught his breath when Steve started to push inside. He was sensitive enough that it had tears welling up in his eyes and he dug his fingers into the sheets beneath him. The most pained and desperate noises he had ever heard himself make escaped from his lips. Steve gave his hips one final snap and sunk all the way in, groaning roughly into his ear.

“Oh, fuck,” Bucky breathed. Starting to get hard again, like the horny and over eager teenage boy he was. He felt like a goddamn turkey, crammed so full with stuffing that he was going to split. Steve was thick enough that squeezing down on him nudged Bucky’s prostate. His hole spasmed and he nearly shot off again, if not for the fist clamping around his dick.

“Don’t you dare. Not until I let you,” Steve said. “Greedy little thing, aren’t you? I haven’t even come once yet.”

“Sorry, I’ll be patient,” Bucky mumbled.

“Good.” Steve pulled out and thrust back in, shallow and experimental. Through gritted teeth, he said, “Jesus, you’re tight. You’re not a virgin, are you?”

Bucky squirmed, breath hitching when Steve nudged against him just right. “‘M not.”

“Guess all that teenaged cock you took wasn’t enough to stretch you out, huh?”

Steve grasped Bucky’s hip with one hand, the other sliding down the slope of his back to settle between his shoulder blades. Holding Bucky down and keeping him in place.

Bucky melted into the mattress with a shuddered sigh.

“Oh, that’s sweet.” Steve dug his fingers into Bucky’s hip, and then he started to fuck him. _Really_ fuck him. Setting a punishing pace. Like the world was going to end in the next two seconds and he wanted to come before then.

“Yeah, Steve, _oh_. Fuck me, come on,” Bucky gasped. Words devolving into _uh uh uhh’s._ It felt so good. God, it felt so good Bucky was going stupid with it. He loved the stretch, the squelching sounds his ass was making from all that lube and the slapping of Steve’s balls against his skin. The pressure was unbearable. It felt like Steve was going to split him from the inside out

He wanted to ask if he was making Steve feel good too, but he couldn’t make his lips form the words. He was helpless to do anything but moan and go along for the ride. Getting shoved up the mattress with each of Steve’s thrusts, then pulled back onto his cock. His own swollen dick swinging with every jolt.

“That’s it, Bucky. There you go,” Steve huffed. “You take my cock so well. Like you were made for it.”

Bucky whimpered. He liked the idea of that. Of being made for Steve, and of Steve being made for him. Steve was churning up his insides, pushing him closer to the edge of orgasm. His balls were drawing up tight, but he had been told to wait.

“Oh, god, Steve, I’m gonna… I wanna, I wanna, can I, _please_ —”

“Not yet,” Steve grunted.

Bucky choked on a sob. Nodded into his pillow. Trying his very best to be good for Steve, so that Steve would want to do this again with him.

Steve’s movements were beginning to stutter, his moans becoming more strained.

Bucky struggled to look over his shoulder. Steve was flushed all the way down to his navel. His chest glistened with a thin sheen of sweat. He wore an expression of intense concentration as he fucked into Bucky, rolling his lower lip between his teeth.

“Come inside me,” Bucky gasped, desperate, as he clenched his ass. It was all for talk since Steve was wearing a condom, but the thought of Steve spraying inside him and making a mess there got him so hot. “Fill me up. God, I want it, Steve, _oh_ —”

Steve shoved inside Bucky, burying himself all the way to the hilt. His hips jerked forcefully, mouth falling open in a silent groan as he began to come. Bucky was pretty sure the image of Steve coming was going to be seared in his brain forever. Not that he was complaining. Steve was so fucking gorgeous it hurt to look at him. His brows were furrowed as though he was in pain. The colour ran high on his cheeks and sweat collected in the hollow of his collarbone.

Steve sagged, dick softening. He draped himself across Bucky’s back like a heavy and hot blanket, continuing to work his hips in shallow undulations. He propped himself up on an elbow, his other arm curling around Bucky’s waist to stroke his dick. Nosing at Bucky’s temple, he said, “You can come now. Go on.”

Bucky moaned, entire body drawing taut as he began to spurt. Steve jerked him off through it, wringing out every last drop of come until he was shaking and hurting from the drag of Steve’s hand on his tender cock. Weakly, he batted Steve’s hand away.

He flopped onto the mattress, out of breath. The last aftershocks of his orgasm shuddered through him. Steve lay down beside him and smiled at him. A real one, all soft and fond. And despite everything they had done, _that_ was what made Bucky feel like he was floating. He offered what must be the goofiest, fucked-out grin back.

* * *

He must have drifted off for a few minutes, because by the time he blinked his eyes open, Steve was sitting at the edge of the bed, already dressed. His hair had been carefully combed into its left part again, though a stubborn lock threatened to curl up. His shirt was slightly rumpled, the first two buttons left undone. Bucky itched to get his mouth back on those prominent collarbones. He wanted to leave his mark.

“Hi,” Bucky rasped. He placed the flat of his foot on Steve’s thigh, sliding it up to the vee of his legs.

Steve gripped his foot and pried it off. Didn’t look at him. “I have to go back to work.”

Bucky’s heart fell. “Oh,” he said, sounding more disappointed than he had any right to be. It wasn’t like it was the first time he had been left alone after sex. He didn’t mind. Most of the time he preferred it. It was just that… Some part of him had thought Steve wasn’t the type to get up and leave after sex. So he had been wondering, what it might feel like to be held gently by the man who usually grabbed him by the scruff and tossed him into the back of his police car. It was stupid now that he thought about it. He was lucky to have gotten Steve into his bed at all.

Jesus, Steve fucked him up good. He never got soppy like this.

“Alright,” Bucky said. He turned away from Steve, wrapping his arms around a pillow and burying his face into it. “Close the door on your way out.”

* * *

The next day, Bucky picked up an aerosol solvent from the local hardware store and returned to the property he had vandalized. Slipping on ridiculous yellow rubber gloves, he sprayed down the steel door and began to scrub. He wrinkled his nose at the harsh chemical smell of the cleaner and rubbed harder. He had only promised to clean up his art for Steve in the heat of the moment, so he was pissed off at himself for seeing it through.

When the job was done, he turned around to find Steve leaning against the police car with a coffee in one hand and a burrito in the other. A tentative smile tugged at Bucky’s lips. He gave Steve a tiny wave with a gloved hand. Hoping that Steve would call him over. Maybe even invite him for lunch.

Steve only nodded at him in acknowledgement. He crumpled up the foil of his burrito and tossed it into a trashcan nearby. Then, he ducked into his car and drove away.

**Author's Note:**

> A few notes about Steve’s thought process in the last few scenes, in case you were interested: For one thing, Steve thinks he’s a total fucking creep for sleeping with someone half his age. He also feels like he abused his position of power, even though Bucky was the one who came onto him. At the same time, he’s super guarded because Bucky seems like the type of person to take advantage of people (and Steve’s not wrong about this). He feels like one of Bucky’s sexual conquests, especially since Bucky’s always pushing him around and treating him like some sort of idiot. Either way, Steve doesn’t want to let Bucky get to him.


End file.
